Unbridled Murder

by Leigh Hearon

  Just outside the taller building, she paused. Several banks of commercial lights were overhead, but they were no match for the sun outside. She blinked, trying to regain her normal sight.

  “What can I do for you?” A man in industrial overalls was approaching her, a giant wrench in one hand.

  “I’m looking for Dave.” Annie had decided on the drive over that her best opening gambit would be to thank the man who had suggested calling Andy’s Repair.

  “He won’t be back until Monday. Can I help you with something?”

  The man, whose sewn-on name tag identified him as Mack, seemed eager to get back to work but was doing his best to be polite.

  Oh, hell, Annie thought. She might as well go for broke. The worst that could happen would be that she was asked to leave.

  “My name’s Annie,” she began. “Annie Carson. I’m a friend of Tony Elizalde, the man who died in the plane crash with Danny Trevor. I’m in the area, and really was just hoping to find out more about the crash and why it might have occurred.”

  Mack stared blankly at her. This was not going well.

  “I realize you’ve probably already been asked those questions by officials. I’ve been told that the NS—the NS—”

  “The NTSB.” Mack was at least kind enough to help her out.

  “Right, that the NTSB has been here. I was just hoping someone who works here could give me an update. Since I’m in the area,” she finished lamely.

  Mack put down his wrench, which made Annie feel slightly more at ease.

  “Not a lot to tell. I didn’t work on Danny’s plane, but the guy who always did the preflight inspection said it was good to go, and Danny always did a once-over himself. Plane took off fine. I was here that day and saw it taxi and take off. As to why a fire would start in the cockpit over Snoqualmie, I haven’t a clue. There’s a rumor that it was rigged, but it doesn’t make any sense. Danny wasn’t the most popular pilot here, but as far as I know, he didn’t have any real enemies. How about your guy?”

  It was a fair question. “Loved by everyone, including children and animals of every size,” Annie said sadly. “His death broke everyone’s heart.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Did anyone here get a chance to look at the wreckage?”

  The man shrugged.

  “We do aircraft salvage, but because the airplane crashed so far away, it didn’t make sense to haul it back here. The insurance company took what was left of the Cessna and must have found a closer place to part it out.”

  “I wasn’t aware that there was anything left to save.”

  “Probably wasn’t. My guess is the fire destroyed anything that might have been reconstructed. Still, the fuselage was worth something.”

  Annie was now at a crossroads. She could ask Mack if he knew how the Cessna might have been rigged, but she suspected that if the NTSB knew, it was keeping that information close and only sharing with law enforcement. Even if he knew more than what Dan already had told her, it was unlikely that Mack, a stranger, was going to fill in any of the many blanks in the story. No, it was better to query him about Danny Trevor, someone he definitely had known.

  In the few seconds all this had gone through Annie’s mind, Mack had been steadily looking at her. Now he gave her an encouraging half smile.

  “Look, I met your friend before the flight. He seemed like a nice guy. If you want, you can ask me questions while I work. I’m in the middle of a dynamic prop balance on the Cessna in here, and it has to get done by today. The owner’s coming into town tonight and expects to fly it tomorrow.”

  Annie peered at the airplane she saw parked in the middle of the hangar.

  “Is that the same kind of plane Danny Trevor flew?”

  “Pretty much. It’s a Cessna 182, a slightly younger model. It basically runs just the same, just has a few more bells and whistles.”

  “What was he like? Danny Trevor, I mean. I know he was supposed to be a good pilot, but that’s about all I know.”

  “You mean as a person? Hard to tell. Wasn’t married, I know that. Not sure about any kids. When he first came here, he used to brag about his days as a commercial airline pilot, and all the babes that would fall into his lap. Then someone started the rumor that he’d been canned from the commercial job. The story I heard was he got busted on a random drug test. All I know is Danny stopped talking about the good old days after that.”

  “Did he? Did he have a drug problem?”

  “Not that I could see. He’d toss back a few beers with the rest of us, but I never saw him drunk. You really can’t have a drug or alcohol problem in this job. Not if you want to last in it.”

  “But if Danny failed a drug test, why was he still allowed to fly?”

  “Oh, you don’t lose your ticket just because you get fired. As long as Danny could pass his annual medical exam, he was good to go.”

  “Was he close to anyone around here?” Mack had already said the pilot didn’t have any real enemies. But did he have any real friends?

  “Close buds, you mean? Not really, but then, I only saw him at the airport. Don’t recall ever seeing him outside of work. Around here, he was pretty friendly with AJ, the guy who took care of his aircraft and did his annual inspections. I got the feeling that they’d known each other before, maybe in Alaska. That’s where Danny flew before coming over here.”

  “So both the pilot and his plane have to pass a yearly exam in order to keep flying?”

  “That’s about it, besides a biennial flight review for private pilots. If you fly commercial, it’s an annual checkride. Of course, Danny always opted for the owner-assisted aircraft inspections. We call them ‘trunk annuals.’ They cost a lot less, and if the pilot is good about taking care of his aircraft, they’re easy to get through.”

  “Does AJ still work here? I’d like to talk to him if he does.”

  “Not since the plane crash. I think he took it hard. He was just a part-timer anyway, and I think he had another business on the side.”

  “Do you know how to reach him?”

  “No, but Dave might. Or Kevin, he’s the boss. They’ll both be here on Monday.”

  Throughout the conversation, Mack had been working on the propeller. He now moved around to the left side of the plane and opened the small door to the cockpit.

  “Time to see if all my hard work has paid off,” he told Annie with a wink.

  “Are you going to start it?” Annie asked, a bit alarmed. She wasn’t sure how Wolf would react to the simultaneous roar of the engine and the whirr of the propeller.

  “Yup. Want to climb in and see?”

  Annie hesitated for just a second. “Yes, but let me first put my dog in the truck. He’s not used to airplane noise.”

  “Roger that.”

  “She was leading Wolf out of the building and instantly thought of Colin and his ill-fated dog. She fleetingly wondered if Colin’s secret herd, safe and sheltered for now, would meet the same fate as Roger.

  Returning to the building, she heard Mack call, “Climb on in.” She looked over and saw him in the left seat of the cockpit, leaning toward her to give her a hand through the copilot’s door. Once she was seated, he handed her a set of headphones with an attached mike.

  “Might want to put these on.”

  Annie did as he suggested.

  “Can you hear me?” Annie nodded. Mack’s voice through the headset came through loud and clear.

  “Now I’m going to start ’er up.” Mack reached over to turn and pull out a knob on the far left. He pushed it in and locked it closed, then turned the ignition key. The engine roared to life. Annie watched the propeller blades flutter for a nanosecond, then dissolve into a dizzying whirr of motion. Just sitting in the plane while it was pulsing with such power was thrilling, but Annie had no way of knowing if Mack’s work had been successful. She glanced at him, and he smiled broadly.

  “Look at the instrument panel,” he told her through the headset. “See how al
l the needles are holding steady?”

  Annie nodded her assent.

  “If the propeller’s off balance, it can make the gauges real jumpy,” Mack explained. “Particularly in the gyro horizon and the compass.” He pointed to both. “The pilot needs to know that the information he’s reading from the dash is accurate. Balancing the propeller reduces the vibration that can cause that. Makes for a smoother ride, too.”

  Annie looked at the dashboard in front of her and the impressive array of gauges. It looked terribly complicated.

  Mack turned off the engine and took off his headset.

  “I think this old girl is good to go.” The propeller was just beginning to lose its momentum, and the blades were nearly visible again.

  “Why did you pull out that knob over there?” Annie pointed to the small cylinder to his left that he had pulled out and pushed in.

  “That’s the primer. Ever drive an old farm truck? It works just like that. Except in a Cessna, the fuel’s stored up in the wings. It’s gravity fed to the primer. Helps start the engine.”

  Annie was majorly impressed.

  * * *

  A half hour later, Annie was on the road again, this time headed toward Andy’s Repair. She’d thanked Mack for his time, not to mention the small lesson in airplane maintenance, and assured him she’d call the office on Monday for AJ’s phone number. She didn’t know when she’d have a chance to talk to him, but it wouldn’t hurt to have it on hand.

  Her cell phone buzzed for the second time that day as Annie was gassing up and considering whether she should buy junk food here or back in Browning. This time, the text was from Dan, and it was a terse Call me.

  The gas-pump nozzle clicked off, signifying the tank was full. Annie didn’t wait for the receipt to slowly spit out of the island station and jumped into her truck to maneuver it to a place where she could talk undisturbed. Wolf was in the backseat, sleeping, oblivious to the vanilla ice cream Annie had just been about to buy.

  “What’s up?”

  “FBI K-9s found the detonator this afternoon.”

  “Where was it?”

  “In some bushes near the lodge. Turns out it was an old cell phone, rigged to go off from a simple phone call. All the miscreant had to do was dial the number, let it ring, and it detonated whatever IED he’d planted on the Cessna. The feds also found a pair of gloves in the same area. Could be coincidental, could be what the killer was wearing when he set it up there. They aren’t ski gloves, so we’re hopeful.”

  “What do the feds think?”

  “I’m not sure they do think. They just investigate. No one’s making a claim that either Tony or Trevor was the intended victim, but it seems pretty clear to me that the pilot was targeted, not our boy.”

  “Absolutely. I’ve found out a few things, too.”

  “Annie! You are not to go around investigating. Listen to your attorney!”

  “Hah! I never thought I’d hear those words come out of your mouth. Do you want to know or not?”

  “I’m not sure I should. In fact, I know I shouldn’t. But go ahead, shoot.”

  “Trevor was fired from his job as a commercial airline pilot for a dirty drug test. He went to Alaska for a time, then moved here. Not many friends, no family to speak of. His best buddy was the maintenance guy who took care of his plane in Alaska and moved here along with Trevor.”

  “Okay. So far, that’s interesting background, but it doesn’t exactly tell me why someone would want him killed.”

  “I’m getting to that. Last year, Trevor signed a contract with the local tribe to scour their territory for bands of wild horses. Once he’d pinpointed from the sky the areas the horses were using for grazing, it was easy to round them up. I talked to a woman who saw his plane pass her animal sanctuary toward the reservation like clockwork. She knew that was her signal to negotiate the sale of the new influx of horses that would arrive at the Loman feedlot the next week.”

  “She’s hardly providing proof that members of the tribe are doing this.”

  “Wait, Dan! There’s more. I talked to a native boy who knows this goes on for a fact. And the receipt I got to bail out the horses? It’s on an envelope from the tribal council to the feedlot owners.”

  “It’s sounding a bit more plausible. But still, Annie—”

  “Dan, you can’t appreciate it until you’ve been here a few days, but this is an extremely divided county. One half thinks rounding up wild horses and selling them for slaughter is just fine, it’s the way of the Wild West and always will be. But there are just as many people who are sickened by the knowledge that this goes on. People like me. Any one of them could have wanted Danny Trevor dead. He was making it incredibly easy for the tribe to solve their wild-horse problem. In the most horrific and cruel way, I might add.”

  “Listen to yourself, Annie! ‘People just like me.’ No wonder you’re still a suspect when you say things like that out loud. From now on, we’re not talking. Period. It’s too damn dangerous. How’s the trailer?”

  “I thought we weren’t talking,” Annie said huffily.

  “Just answer the question, then I’ll let you go. Is it going to be fixed? And where’s Marcus? Shouldn’t he be there by now?”

  Annie was tempted to remind Dan that the man he was so anxious to see come to her aid was the same man he’d arrested for murder a mere six months ago. She decided to restrain herself.

  “The trailer’s in a shop right now, and the owner has promised to deliver a serviceable product by Monday. In exchange for a lot of money, I might add, but Jessica’s insurance will ultimately cover it. I’m headed over to the mechanic’s now to check on its progress.”

  “Good.”

  Annie knew the word was meant as grudging praise. “As far as Marcus, he’s just seen the northern lights off Iceland and is due to arrive on schedule, which is sometime tomorrow morning.”

  “So all you have to do is keep out of trouble until then.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  CHAPTER 20

  SATURDAY AFTERNOON, AUGUST 13

  Annie decided to let her smartphone’s map app lead her to the mechanic’s shop. It occurred to her that she was becoming more dependent on the small hand-held device than perhaps she should be. But it was so helpful and so informative. And so far, it had proved a much better navigator than she was by nature. But now, she was sure the bouncing blue ball was leading her far afield. It was instructing her to turn into the most suburban setting she’d seen since coming to eastern Washington.

  But, as always, the app was right. Andy’s Repair Shop was situated in back of his split-level rambler home, a massive commercial garage nearly the size of his residence. She parked her truck on the grass beside it. Inside, she saw the trailer hoisted several feet off the ground and Andy stretched out on a dolly, working underneath. Old-time country-western music blared from a portable radio on a nearby counter. The shop was festooned with calendars and posters sent by trucking vendors and companies. A vivacious, scantily clad female was the focal point in most. Another sign stating IT’S FIVE O’CLOCK SOMEWHERE! was pinned to the inside of a side door, and Annie noticed a small refrigerator close by. She doubted it contained tools of his trade.

  “How’s it going?” she called out as she approached the garage. Andy didn’t answer. He was intently trying to screw something into the undercarriage that Annie couldn’t see. She didn’t want to scare him to death, so she cleared her throat and, when that elicited no response, stood by silently and waited for Andy to emerge.

  Several minutes ticked by. Annie was getting impatient, but she also was impressed by the man’s dedication to a job she’d practically begged him to do. She had no idea what damage had been done underneath the trailer, and knew it might well be the area that most compromised the trailer’s restorability.

  Finally, Andy pushed himself out, sat up, and mopped his brow with a red kerchief.

  Annie stepped forward. “What’d you find?”

  Andy y
elped and jumped at the same time. The dolly silently slid out from underneath his legs and the mechanic slid ungracefully to the ground.

  “I’m very sorry,” Annie said, meaning it. “I’ve been here for a bit but didn’t want to disturb you. I had this image of some hydraulic lift failing if I spoke and the whole trailer crashing down on you.”

  Andy laughed, a bit shakily. “Not likely. I mostly work alone, so I’m pretty good at making safety my first priority. But I appreciate your waiting, just the same.”

  “I take it the party revelers weren’t content to just bash the sides in?”

  Annie had reminded herself on the way over that she had to stick to the story she’d told him. She wasn’t sure why it was so important that the mechanic not know that local townsmen had been the real assailants. But for some reason, she felt pinning the blame on transitory visitors to his hick town more prudent.

  “Actually, no, it looks pretty clean under there,” Andy said, rising to his feet. “I just wanted to make sure the brake system was still intact. It is. That’s a lucky break. I’m not sure I could have replaced it by the time you need it.”

  “Excellent. How’s everything else look? I mean, the stuff that’s not visible.”

  “Well, the lighting system needs a lot of work. The party animals managed to break out every light inside and out and screw up the wires. Getting them repaired will take up most of today and tomorrow morning. Tomorrow afternoon, I’ve got a couple of guys coming over to help me take out as many of the dents as I can.”

  Annie hoped none of Andy’s helpers were related to the men responsible for putting them there.

  “How about the windows? Will you have time to replace those?”

  “Afraid not. What I can do is make sure all the broken glass is removed. I’ll give you the name of a glass doctor I know in Ellensburg. I’ll do the research and let him know what he needs to order. He probably can do the job in a day, if you can spare the downtime.”